1000 tearz or deth – the Rewrite
by annoysrough
Summary: A misunderstood girl goes to Hogwarts. A fanfiction of, well a fanfiction. The original story and concept belong to DeathlyGladEmoGurl. The Harry Potter Universe belongs to J. K. Rowling, with apologies.
1. Chapter 1

Call me Amy. Amy Gerard. Since the very day I was born, I was raised singlehandedly by Dad – a factory worker with odd shifts, and even with that dependence I had to endure scoldings and beatings that he himself called discipline. This gradually stopped – despite most if not all of it being justified – as I grew older and more sensible, even if my age never really hit the two-digit mark back then. That was a time scarred in my mind, even if it was one I tried all to hard to forget.

The streets of London painted a much more grim picture that Ralph McTell ever could - or for that matter would: theft was hardly uncommon, as were rumors of rape. As I walked alone and unaccompanied to and from school, I was always cautious and indeed fearful – every corner was foreboding, every halo of a streetlamp the watchful gaze of an awaiting thief. These ten minutes were always the longest of the day, even longer than arithmetic, which childish, silly me hated.

The early 2000s brought with them this new wave of fads labelled "Emo"; my affinity to black sweaters and full, lace skirts shoehorned me into that very stereotype. I embraced it in the hope I would belong somewhere, a decision which brought me solace despite the bullying cases I had witnessed – and once being a victim with a pair of broken spectacles, promptly repaired with matching duct tape. But this was where I ultimately belonged, where I could sink my roots in for now.

I still recall May 17th four years back, when I was transferred to a new school and a new life soon as the last day of school.

It was a cold and horridly windy morning – that kind which sent my untied hair into a waving breeze, and wrapped my long cotton skirt around my slender – although my gym teacher prefers the word "scrawny" – legs. Another long walk through those streets. Within the first minute or so of the journey, the rumble of an approaching van stopped me dead in my tracks. It was a red and black vehicle with a silver wolf painted on its side. A rarity indeed for cars to pass by this street, much less this modified one.

I walked away, eyes concentrated on the uniformed man who left the van, walked to a ground-floor apartment, deposited a brown envelope in the postbox, and walked off.

Then I stopped. 27 Rutford Lane APT 18. _My address._


	2. Chapter 2

School was soon over in a matter of hours, and the moment I got home I pulled out the envelope from among flyers advertising real estate and fast food.

"MS. A. E. GERARD

27 RUTFORD LANE APT 18

LONDON SW7 4DH"

It was a letter to me, from some arcane organization with an arcane crest. Why was I wanted? By whom?

I peeled open the parchment envelope.

"HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY"

An institute which I had never attended, knew of, or really bothered about in the mess of homework and social life I had.

"Dear AMY EVA GERARD,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted –"

Tears of vague ecstasy were welling up in me; I was headed off to what I would expect to be a better future.

Dad came home at eleven, fatigued as he had always been. I greeted him as always, with that deadpan "Hi Dad, how's work?" that had been ingrained in me since Heaven knows when.

"I've been accepted by another school, and am expected to turn up next term." I passed him the letter from Hogwarts. A few moments of eerie silence ensued.

"No Amy, how am I to let you to go? You're my only hope, girl. I don't want you going down my path, and I will see to it that you graduate in this group of public schools." Dad himself was stoic. I could only faintly nod, although I was hoping that Hogwarts would be above the bullying, stress and schoolwork that was my current school.

Days passed soon enough, and a trendy teenager turned up at my door. Dad simply dismissed her as an annoying salesgirl trying to sell bottled soda to pay through her GCSEs, but she persisted with her message: that I was to be sent to Hogwarts regardless. There she stood, in a skull-printed blouse and black trackpants.

"You're Amy Gerard, no?" She gestured to me.

"Oh, yes." I cast a slight glance at my father.

"Dad, I'm leaving. The most I can promise is to take care of you."

I took my father's unwanted Samsonite suitcase and followed the teenaged girl out of the apartment.

"The name's Fally." She extended a handshake. I smiled back as we stopped in front of a black BMW with red neon lights installed beneath.

"The address points to somewhere in Scotland… isn't it better off having booked me an air ticket?" I asked, recalling the almost unintelliglble address on the parchment.

"This isn't just a car. A _flying car_, Amy." Fally remarked.

"And a freaking BMW at that." The young man in the driver's seat added. "Oh, and I'm Harrison."

"He won a lookalike contest for Billie Joe Armstrong." A girl, at most sixteen or so, called out from the front seat. She then turned to me. "What's up?"

Harrison pressed a blue button on the dashboard. "Forget the train. Our seniors did this before." He laughed, as the BMW floated up gracefully. On the radio, the thundering rock music of Good Charlotte was playing. The city faded into a grey mass, as I had heady dreams of what my life would be in this new chapter.


End file.
